


Take a Dip

by Porkchop_Sandwiches



Series: Greased [2]
Category: Breaking Bad, Breaking Bad RPF
Genre: 2012 Emmys, Established Relationship, M/M, Sequel, Twin Peaks References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:22:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porkchop_Sandwiches/pseuds/Porkchop_Sandwiches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-Emmys celebration of pool-crashing, In-N-Out Burger, small animals, soggy limo rides, and the best invitation Bryan’s had all night. Because, how could he say no when Aaron’s in soaked formal attire, chlorinated water in his eyelashes, practically dripping with vague, alluring promises like an adolescent wet dream?  </p><p>Set during and after my version of the 2012 Emmys. Sequel to “Greased; or, the Love Story of Aaron Paul, Pizza, and Bryan Cranston.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VillaKulla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillaKulla/gifts).



> I'm pretending that "Breaking Bad" won this year for outstanding drama series, and that Aaron's acceptance speech went pretty differently. While this is a sequel to my other Aaron/Bryan story, it wouldn't be too confusing to read this as a stand-alone. VillaKulla kind of casually mentioned in a comment on my other story that she wanted a post-awards story and then this idea came to me. The second half has a lot more Aaron/Bryan :)

Thrilled didn’t even come close to covering it. Psyched out of his damn mind was at least in the ballpark of adrenaline-pumping emotions that made Aaron want to laugh, cry, and puke like he was performing a live one-man reenactment of the night of his twenty-first birthday. He didn’t really think that would be a super cool thing to do in front of a theatre full of actors, the Academy, and maybe millions of people watching on television. The word “millions” got him a little queasy in a way being on stage always did, because for some reason it felt so much different than being on a set. There was an immediacy there, like getting instant feedback from so many people, and it honestly scared the shit of him. It was the same cherry-bombs-going-off-in-your-gut stuff that Bryan liked to talk about like it fueled his entire being. The dude loved theatre. And, looking at Bryan in the front row, smiling so damn hard made Aaron even more self-aware of whatever his own face was up to. He knew one weird flinch or something could turn him into a meme by the time he was sitting down again.

Everything around him was kind of glimmering with his eyes misting: the lights, Claire Danes in all yellow a little ways off to his left, Bryan grinning at him in his tux. Aaron gripped the Emmy as tight as possible with his other hand in his suit jacket pocket, vaguely aware of how he kept anxiously moving around the microphone and touching his face and babbling who knows what as he tried to remember to thank everyone he should. He seriously hadn’t planned anything. Being fortunate enough to win just _one_ of these things was so fucking mind-blowing that he didn’t at all expect to get another. Aaron knew he would have never been up there without _Breaking Bad_ and Vince and Bryan. He was so damn lucky and he couldn’t get over it.

Around the time he was wrapping up this speech-like thing he was attempting, he was pretty sure he declared his love for Bryan again because it was kind of his go-to when it came to making any and all public statements. He kissed the tips of his fingers and blew it out to the crowd, kind of imagining Bryan absorbing the gesture. The guy was still beaming back at him brighter than floodlights, washing out everybody else but the two of them and an air kiss.

\-----

Bryan’s hand was on the side of Aaron’s face, clapping the beard he’d said was growing out “Just like a real boy’s” with a crooked smirk when they’d run into each other on the red carpet. Robin had embraced Aaron with a kiss on the cheek just as another horde of photographers started shouting for pictures. Bryan popped a hand on Aaron’s shoulder with Robin on his other side. Even with all of the cameras flashing, Aaron could see Robin smiling at them fondly, like she was looking at the two of them instead of posing or paying any attention to the manmade, paparazzi-like lightning show in front of them. There was just so much warmth and happiness coming from her that Aaron wanted to hug her again.

But, a woman he didn’t recognize wearing a glittery, floor-length navy number pulled her over to talk. Jon Hamm in a tailored, dark grey suit sort of stole the attention of the photographers because he was wearing that suit like a snake in its scales and he was Jon fucking Hamm. They’d both waved and chatted with him a little before Jon got snagged by someone from Entertainment Weekly. Bryan smacked Aaron playfully on the back, asking him how the fuck was he. Even though they called each other on like a weekly basis, a couple of those with their hands down their own respective pants, filming schedules and family stuff and life in general had kind of gotten in the way of them meeting up face-to-face. Aaron hadn’t seen Bryan since they’d wrapped up shooting that first half of the fifth season almost five months ago. So, he may have embraced the man a little indecently, like a full-body, I’ve-decided- _not-_ to-go-to-Paris rom-com reunion at the airport kind of shit. And it wasn’t at all surprising that they’d managed to slot themselves back into this position once the ceremony was over.

Aaron had just finished some press stuff before weaving in and out of a web of back hallways of the Nokia Theatre. He kept checking his phone to see where the rest of the cast wound up because they were supposed to get together at some point to celebrate. _Shit,_ he glanced up from the touchscreen and questioned if he’d passed this oddly placed, gold-framed, abstract ocean panting before.

Then Bryan had shot out from a beige-walled corner like a smartly dressed, over-exited, spicy-orange-cologne-wearing ninja and almost tackled Aaron.

“Look at you,” Bryan said.

They were both grinning, Aaron probably a little more hysterically because he was just too damn happy not to look like a complete lunatic.

“I know, man. It’s crazy. I just can’t believe it, you know?” Aaron patted Bryan on the arm, smile just barely dimming. “I’m not rubbing this in your face am I?”

Bryan’s expression comically soured. He tugged at the corner of Aaron’s bowtie. “You mean how you’re leaving a winner tonight, and I’m in all technicalities a loser? If I asked you to tone it down, would you even be able to?”

“Uh yeah, totally,” Aaron said.

He nodded a few times, face a wobbly front of seriousness until a laugh basically involuntarily shot out of him. Bryan laughed right along with him.

“Just look at you,” he said again. He cupped the other side of Aaron’s face and smiled softly. “I’ve missed you.”

Just as Bryan leaned forward, Dean and Anna were briskly making their way down the hall. Bryan was one sly, well-timed, little improvising motherfucker because he used the breaths distance between them to seamlessly pull Aaron into a headlock while he pressed a series of big, showy, goofy kisses into his hair, nudging Aaron to wiggle around to really sell it. Yeah, their costars had most likely at least suspected that he and Bryan had done things to each other sans pants, knew they kind of loved the shit out each other, but Aaron understood how Bryan didn’t want to make anything too glaringly obvious. Bryan was a classy dude. He wanted to keep things respectful, especially since there were other, dearly loved people involved besides the two of them.

“Like I’m going to wrestle you in a 3,000 dollar suit,” Aaron said.

Bryan laughed. “Come on!”

Aaron felt exceedingly proud and sappy that Bryan could just instinctively finish the line from _Arrested Development_ for him at Aaron’s probably millionth reference to the show. He squirmed in Bryan’s hold and maybe giggled when Bryan got his hand under his jacket to pluck his fingers down his side.

Anna, in a stunning red geometric-kind of dress, flashed them an amused smile. Dean hunched down and made a move like he was going to join in with the ice in his highball clinking against the glass.

“Aaron, always aim for the balls,” he said. He chuckled as he started to move on, walking backwards. “But, uh, I guess I don’t need to tell _you_ guys that.”

Bryan rubbed his knuckles across Aaron’s scalp like he was giving him an actual noogie. It didn’t feel all that bad with the way his joints were massaging circles into his skin, way softer than it looked, kind of like fight choreography at its finest. Aaron winced anyway to make it seem like it hurt a little.

“I don’t think he’s gonna be reaching my balls, Dean,” Bryan said. “We both know I could have him over my knee faster than you can finish your drink.”

Anna _oohed_ sarcastically with her eyebrows raised. “A little more than I needed to know, Bryan.”

Bryan chuckled breathlessly as Aaron softly nudged him into the wall, and he tightened his grip slightly around Aaron’s neck. “He’d be over my knee because I’d be breaking him.”

“ _Whoa_ , I’m not drunk enough for this kind of stuff,” Dean said.

“ _No_ ,” Bryan said. He was getting flustered, and Aaron was definitely eating this shit up. It was a glorious and rare occasion to see Bryan Cranston fumbling over unintentional sexual innuendoes. “I mean he’s so _small_ I’d be able to pin the kid pretty easy. Well, maybe _pin_ isn’t exactly the best way to word that….”

“Man, you’re _so_ not making this any better,” Aaron said.

“Whatever,” Dean called out. He was maybe six or so unlabeled mystery doors away by then. “When you two get done playing your daily round of grab-ass, come meet us at the left side entrance. Limos are waiting.”

Bryan jostled Aaron with another dramatically puckered smooch on the forehead and nodded. The second Dean and Anna had rounded the next corner, the hallway was empty again. Bryan drew his mouth down to cover Aaron’s. He slid his hand inside Aaron’s back pocket, warm palm on his ass, Bryan’s tongue in his mouth. Aaron gasped around the kiss. He tilted his head up into it and curled a hand around the back of Bryan’s neck, and _holy shit_ Bryan knew exactly what he wanted and when. The man seriously had some incredible timing.

\-----

Aaron lost count of the places they’d popped in and out of around the time Betsy suggested they stop by this new dessert bar on Rodeo Drive. Every swanky restaurant they’d walked into had basically been throwing free food in their mouths all night. Though at one point that was Bryan; that is the person slipping a roasted marshmallow between Aaron’s lips because this place had these little personalized roasters and no one was claiming the extra marshmallow Anna toasted but didn’t want. So, Bryan got him by the jaw and fed the thing to him, all smiles and joking like he was giving him another Wet Willy. The marshmallow was delicious. Bryan liked to tease him about his five-year-old palate and appetite, but it wasn’t good just because it was a warm gooey ball of processed sweetness. It tasted like charred sugar and the limes Bryan had been squeezing over his gin and tonics and a hint of the guy’s bare, unadulterated skin that Aaron had spent weeks licking before he’d hung up Jesse’s oversized jacket and headed back to L.A.

Something inside of Aaron seemed to flick into place like the starting click-click-click of their gas-lit tabletop fire-thing because he hadn’t really realized how much he wanted more than occasional late-night phone sex with Bryan until he had Bryan’s fingertips in his mouth a little and he almost felt like he was still blushing from that make out session Bryan had awesomely pounced on him in that maze of hallways at the Nokia. It was like Bryan just couldn’t help himself even though they’d been only a few feet away from a door that could have been opened to reveal about every single member of the Academy and their moms.

Maybe Bryan noticed whatever it was Aaron was feeling getting switched on inside the pit of his gut by the way it flamed up across Aaron’s face, making his eyelids droop just a smidge. Bryan turned to say something to Vince and casually, firmly grabbed Aaron’s inner thigh under the table. Aaron had mashed pretty much his entire elbow into the soft, creamy slice of blueberry cheesecake RJ and his girlfriend were splitting. And he spent the next ten minutes saying he was sorry, ordering them a new piece, and dabbing his sleeve off with a cloth napkin.

Bryan had just smirked. He was still smirking at the next bar and the hotel suite party after that. He was keeping it up even when they made a quick stop at Jeff Daniel’s ginormous living room where Aaron got into a bizarre conversation about the finale of _Twin Peaks_ with Bill Hader. Though, disagreements about spin-offs or sequels quickly turned into them doing Andy Brennan impressions as they both played with Jeff’s new litter of black Persian kittens in their laps on a tasteful though shockingly white sofa.

He wasn’t sure whose idea it was to take a dip in the pool of the Château at three in the morning. But, they all jumped inside with everyone still in their suits and gowns. Left on the side was a heap of discarded heels and loafers and jackets that had been drenched anyway once RJ and Dean started up a cannon ball contest. It was like they’d unintentionally staked the place out as their own territory with their stuff spread out everywhere, tossed and strewn across the bricks like little kids coming in from the snow.

Aaron hadn’t felt like a nine year old more so than he did standing by Robin and Betsy while they all held glasses of chilled champagne and he listened to them talk about some new World War II documentary series that Aaron was pretty sure he’d recorded without watching any of it yet. He just smiled and nodded until Betsy waded off to get a refill. And it wasn’t pretending like he knew what they were discussing that made him feel young and short enough to need to tread water in the shallow end. No, it was what he was waiting around to ask Robin about that got him imagining water wings wrapped around his upper arms with that plastic-y smell that never seemed to go away.

He was kind of psyching himself out. Because even once they were fairly alone, he didn’t know how he wanted to say this. He seriously stood there for at least five minutes in silence, taking the occasional sip of champagne and holding back a burp or two triggered more so by his nerves than the bubbly stuff he was drinking.

Aaron smiled anxiously. “You look lovely.”

She did. Her black, flowered, lacey dress looked like a dewy garden beneath the glowing water. The bulbs lining the interior were also casting a light on the jungle of palm trees bordering the pool. Underneath white umbrellas, sprawled out on white lounge chairs were a few cast and crew who had climbed out to snack on platters of finger foods too tiny for Aaron to make out other than the prosciutto-wrapped pear slices calling his name. He hadn’t wanted to get out just yet. It was maybe seventy or so degrees so the water felt just the right amount of chilly and Robin was still in here.

Her black earrings dangled and shimmered with her hair loosening from her twisty up-do that reminded him of Lauren. She was in Sydney for Kind Campaign, sweetly blowing his phone up with apologies for missing out, jokes about living in the future, and a shit ton of koala bear emojis. He tried to focus on the conversation they’d had over the phone last night, because he hoped it could be kind of like reference material for what he wanted to come out of his mouth sometime before his whole body started to prune.

“That’s sweet of you to say,” she said. “This brown looks really great on you, especially the bowtie. It’s an interesting color.”

Aaron glanced down at silk knot still askew from Bryan playfully yanking on the corners. “Yeah, it’s sort of a brownish burgundy. I thought it looked pretty cool with the suit, and I was kind of tired of plain black, so I thought why the hell not, you know?”

She nodded and propped an elbow up on the lip of the pool, seeming to wait for him.

He made a two-handed wave to her ensemble. “This dress is awesome by the way. Who are you wearing?”

All right, now he sounded like he was Mario Lopez on the red carpet.

“It’s a Kaufman Franco,” she said. Tipping her glass to her lips, she smiled. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m the mother of a teenage daughter so I know when someone’s tiptoeing around something.”

Robin held his arm just _about_ where one of his imagined child safety flotation devices would be with a wry little smirk on her face that looked like it could have been traced directly from her husband’s handsome mug. “You didn’t wreck my Mercedes, did you?”

Aaron laughed. “Taylor wrecked your Mercedes?

She shrugged. “Slight fender bender and it wasn’t her fault. I’m just being dramatic. Mothers can get that way.”

“Yeah,” he said, back to nodding like a moron.

As if knowing just how uneasy he felt, she made a nice, soothing move up and down his forearm where his sleeve was pushed up. She smiled. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Aaron laughed again with his hand finding its way to the back of his head as if it was on some sort of nervous autopilot. “I, uh, got sort of a weird request.”

He gnawed on the left corner of his mouth, tucked his chin down a little. “By all means, feel free to say no or tell me to go to hell or whatever. But…I….”

Not really understanding the full picture of why, Aaron started imaging what Lauren had suggested to him just the other night like she was right there with him, helpfully feeding him his lines.

“I have the house to myself with Lauren out of town, and she already said she’d be cool with it. Well, it was sort of her idea. But, you know, I mean, I’m all for it too. It’s just been like a long time since I’ve seen Bryan. He was filming that thing in New York, and then I went out to Idaho and you know, whatever. Maybe you haven’t seen him a lot either and you totally have dibs, like forever dibs.” Aaron chuckled and wiped a wet hand down his face. “Not that I go around calling dibs on people or anything. I just, I don’t know, wanted to see if you’d be cool…if you didn’t mind if, uh….”

Robin reassuringly clutched his wrist with her lips faintly quirked. “Are you asking if Bryan can sleep over?”

Aaron laughed and winced at the same time because that was like _the exact_ way he _didn’t_ want to word this. He eyed the area around them, startling a little when he noticed Bryan and Vince watching them from the deep end, even dropping his stupid glass in the pool.

He skimmed it up off the surface and cleared his throat for no good reason. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I was going for. I’ll so respect your decision. I haven’t asked Bryan yet, because I thought I’d….”

“You thought you’d be your darling, sensitive self and ask me first?” She gently touched his shoulder. “Honey, if more Hollywood affairs had half your class, the tabloid industry would probably flop harder than my husband does on the sofa during a Dodgers game.”

Aaron snickered. “Yeah, he’s sort of a couch-hog, isn’t he?”

“I’ve honestly spent a few dull innings picturing those very words engraved into his tombstone. It doesn’t help that he wears the same dingy pair of tube socks every game. But, he’s a grown man with his own choices. _I_ choose not to sit next to those things.”

“You sound extremely patient,” Aaron said, chuckling. “He’s a lucky guy. I mean, Lauren’s pretty okay with football, but I can like _see_ her eyes glaze over the second basketball season starts. Sometimes when the Lakers are playing an away game, we’ll do like a drinking game or something at home. It’s fun if you’re careful.”

“I’ll take that tip into consideration,” she said. “Speaking of being inebriated….”

She did this shifty-eye thing just as Bob splashed by while doing a backstroke with a silly grin, and they waved to him, not talking until the tiny wake he left behind stilled.

Robin toyed with one of her earrings. “I don’t know if this is my place to say. But, my husband has been pretty frank when discussing your…time together.”

Aaron was pretty sure his eyebrows were getting really chummy with his hairline right about then because, like, _holy shit,_ Bryan. He wasn’t sure if he should run or just melt into the chlorine.

“He didn’t get too graphic,” she said with a vague, flippant hand gesture. “He’s always been a chatty drunk. And recently we hosted a somewhat stressful dinner party with my dreadfully dull cousins visiting from Wichita. One of my friends—she sculpts mostly nudes, grows her own coffee beans, very outspoken—mentioned how she’d re-watched _Brokeback Mountain_ , which really upset my backwards, imbecile cousin and his wife. Then that somehow led to a discussion about the wide variety of sexual positions between two men because that one friend loves to get a rise out of conservative types.”

She smiled sheepishly and loosely crossed her arms. “I feel I did to borrow your preluding statement of ‘by all means, tell me to go to hell.’ But, Bryan and I were loading up the dishwasher once everyone had either left or gone to bed. And I was tipsy enough to indirectly ask him…about the two of you. I was curious about…the mechanics you might say of how…he liked it.”

Robin knocked back like the last half a glass of her champagne. “Should I shut my mouth or keep going?”

“ _Definitely_ keep going,” he said, grinning. This had potential to get really good.

“Well,” she said. She squinted for a second. “Again, don’t take this the wrong way, but the details he gave me weren’t too surprising if you consider stereotypes like your ages and body frames and such. And when I could have left things at that, I went and asked if he’d enjoy you’re…positions…on the field reversing.”

Robin tightened her arms and leaned in closer. “I know that you know that Bryan isn’t shy about expressing himself. There’s just something different about this. Use the information in whatever way you wish, but everything from his body language to the way he kind of laughed it off and said ‘sure,’ screamed that it’s something he _really_ wants. And I assure you, you don’t need to ask me first about that.”

Aaron had to pop a hand over his mouth because laughing was all his body knew how to do with that kind of information. It took him a minute or two to calm down. And once he did, he snatched an opened bottle of champagne by the side of the pool and topped them both off.

He raised his in a toast. “I’ll for sure keep that advice in mind; appreciate it.”

“Anything to help,” she said and clinked their glasses together. “Just to reiterate here, Bryan can most certainly sleep over.”

He laughed. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be good to the man.”

“Aaron,” Robin said with a smile. “You always are.”

She kissed his cheek and patted him on the back, and Aaron had never felt more reassured and confident about anything in his entire life.

He gave her cheek a peck as well, wished her a good night, and headed to wear Bryan was still watching him like a grade-A weirdo. Aaron smiled as he swam over because there was a good chance he was going to fuck Bryan Cranston tonight, and he was stoked as hell about it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Give me your most sincere, visceral opinion here,” Vince said, straight-faced as he jerked his chin to his left. “Think they’re plannin’ on runnin’ away with each other?”

His Southern drawl was really starting to warm up with the champagne, and Bryan smiled while idly treading water, a little tipsy himself. He had to admit that Aaron and his wife would have made a truly stunning couple: Aaron with a hand over his mouth, body shaking with laughter, while his beautiful wife looked incredibly pleased with herself and whatever she’d said that had Aaron in hysterics. He pictured them as some sort of modern-day reincarnation of Chance Wayne and Alexandra Del Lago from _Sweet Bird of Youth_ , though by no means in terms of personalities. Similarities wise, what rang the truest had to be Aaron’s Paul-Newman-rivaling blue eyes. Or maybe it was his willingness to let some old fogey manhandle him whenever and wherever and in any way that fortunate son of bitch wanted. Aaron Paul was one of the most generous people he’d ever slept with. He’d given Bryan a damn parting blowjob not ten minutes before he needed to leave for the airport, providing him little time to reciprocate, which Aaron was “totally cool with.” With his arms still wrapped around Bryan’s thighs, he’d looked up smirking on his knees and said, “I’d suck your cock all day.” And Bryan achingly missed that heavenly month and a half when he got to wake up to bleary-eyed smiles, and yawns so impossibly attractive with that lean, stubble-covered, stretching line of Aaron’s throat and Aaron sleepily grinding against his thigh with a gravelly whispered “Good morning.” The fact that Bryan had gone five months without him was fairly batshit crazy.

He felt something nudge his shoulder, and turned to Bob doggie-paddling in place between Vince and himself. “Pssh, let’s get real here. They’re not running off together. The two of them are talking about _you_. While I wasn’t eavesdropping, I caught your name being tossed around more than a couple of times.”

“That so?” Bryan said.

“Oh yeah. Here, let me help you guys out.” Bob coughed once before going into a falsetto, timing his words to the way Robin was touching Aaron’s arm. “ _Oh_ my dear friend Aaron Paul, I must ask, have you ever found yourself simply _lost_ in Bryan’s dazzling smile?”

His raised his pitch a note or two even higher with, “Why of course Robin, only every single second on set. I mean, who hasn’t, right? I’m from Idaho and I’m skinny.”

Bob slightly deepened his tone again just as they raised their glasses. “Shut up and drink with me, you little weirdo. Let’s toast to Bryan’s sex appeal. He’s _so_ dreamy.”

Bryan nodded. “I’ll admit you do a spot-on Aaron.”

“What can I say? I’m a master of voices.” He bopped Vince on the arm. “Seriously, give me a bald cap and some strategically-placed, offensive tattoos, and I could be the newest member of Jack’s gang next season.”

Vince laughed. “I’ll uh, think about it, Bob.”

“Yeah, I dare you to try to get that image out of your head.” He snapped his attention back to Aaron swimming in their direction. “Disperse, gentleman. I repeat, disperse. The fox is on the run.”

Bryan held his arm out. “You guys don’t have to….”

“Commencin’ disperse,” Vince said.

With that, Bob was splashing away while Vince dashed off in the opposite direction and Bryan laughed as Aaron nearly glided right into him. Under the water, Aaron head-butted his side before popping up like a dripping, heaving, smiling vision in dim fluorescent lighting and the blueish, wavering glimmer beneath them. Even though the pool was secluded, the neighboring nightlife of Sunset Boulevard filtered its way through the foliage in that way that made Los Angeles never completely dark, even at almost four in the morning. Though, Aaron still managed to stand out more radiant and alluring than a muggy, adolescent wet dream.

“Hey,” Bryan said. He jokingly knocked his knee against Aaron’s. “I heard you were talking about me _again_. Should I ask what…?”

“Come home with me.”

Aaron wasn’t smiling anymore. He took in a breath, swiping his tongue across his lips, eyelashes speckled with water with a gaze steady on Bryan.

Bryan involuntarily made some ridiculous, cartoonish _hmmm_ of surprise. “I don’t know if I can answer that. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to. I just think I should first….”

“I already asked her,” Aaron said. “She’s like totally okay with it.”

Bryan glanced back to where Aaron had been standing with Robin and where she was now speaking with Anna. He quirked an eyebrow and she waved back contentedly with a gesture everyone else most likely interrupted as a hello as opposed to a goodbye.

“You asked my wife for permission if I could sleep over?”

Aaron gave him a reluctant little nod.

Bryan laughed, wiggling his fingers through the damp ends of Aaron’s hair. “Don’t ever change, kid.”

He shook Bryan’s hand off and chuckled. “You ready to go?”

Bryan heard the _pop_ of a cork and another and then chiming glasses. He could smell prosciutto and champagne and something with chocolate in it.

“Now?”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah, I got a limo waiting out front.”

Bryan grinned and clapped Aaron’s cheek for maybe the twentieth time of the night. “You got us a car? Did you also pack me a dry change of clothes?”

Aaron fleetingly titled in to the touch, rubbing his beard into Bryan’s palm, humming a beautiful sound that ended in a snicker. “Man, you’re not gonna need any.”    

\-----

Bryan waited twenty minutes after Aaron had said his goodbyes before giving his own and discreetly walking Robin in to the front lobby; taking with him, her warm, reiterated vote of approval, leaving her with his MasterCard and adamant support to go crazy. The tall, mustached man at the front desk made no indication that he cared in the least that he and his wife were in drenched formalwear nor that Robin’s dress was leaving a wet trail seeping into the carpet behind her like she lugging a mop. He simply smiled and pleasantly informed them of the hotel’s same-day dry-cleaning services. Robin snatched up a pamphlet advertising in-room Swedish massages, and Bryan kissed her on the cheek, assured she was in good hands.

He made a quick detour to the bathroom where he tugged off the restrictive material of his bowtie to slip in his pocket before pressing a hand over his quickly drying hair and checking his teeth for any leftover pear bits. Nodding to the security guard outside the main entrance, he stepped up to what he dearly hoped to be Aaron’s limousine. He didn’t really want to open this door to embarrassingly leather-lined emptiness or interrupt any private moments.

So, it was a relief when the second he popped the thing ajar—unlocked; so far, so good—Aaron fisted the lapel of his jacket and “helped” him inside. And it was a squeaky scramble of limbs and wet seats and a chuckled, “The door, Aaron. Let me close the door first” before Bryan found Aaron in a soaked, squirming heap straddling his lap. His jacket and bowtie were lying next to him, white dress shirt sheer with water and unbuttoned nearly halfway down his chest, evoking a very unkempt, Jim Morrison vibe. Bryan felt the car move and raptly noted Aaron’s nipples were extremely hard before getting his fingers around one and sucking a kiss into his neck. Aaron’s breath hitched into an almost silent whine as he desperately rocked into him back and forth, grating Bryan’s sopping clothes against his crotch in a way that was threatening to rub him raw enough to make the rest of the night unpleasant.

He kissed up Aaron’s jaw, held him firmly around the waist, tilting him a way a little. Laughing, Bryan smiled at Aaron dazed and now suddenly concerned. “I want this to feel good, honestly I do. But, uh….”

Bryan glanced down for a moment and chuckled. “You’re going to chafe my dick off if you keep doing that. And, I feel like I might need it for later.”

Aaron’s eyes seemed to follow Bryan’s, honing in on the area directly below Bryan’s belt. Aaron flicked them back up to his face and unhurriedly pulled himself forward until the belt was practically melded to the glossy fibers of Aaron’s slacks. “Maybe not so much tonight.”

Aaron dragged his hips up in a semi-circle, and Bryan considered how he might be able to survive some minor fabric-burn as long as Aaron did that again, kept saying such vague, teasing, promising things.

Bryan slid his hand to Aaron’s back and nudged him closer. “Why is that?”

The car jerked to a stop. Aaron grabbed on to both shoulders, and the closed-circuit intercom turned up briefly with static before a male voice quite formally apologized before announcing they had arrived at their destination.

“Sweet,” Aaron said.

He lurched over to grab the telephone without moving his lower body and jammed it between his right shoulder and ear.

“Thank you so much for making this stop. It’s much needed. Yeah, yeah,” Aaron said. “Yeah, I’ll have a Double-Double, fries, and uh, a Coke. Wait, hold on a sec.”

Aaron covered the receiver. “You want anything? We’re at In-N-Out.”

“I’m fine,” Bryan said, smiling. “How are you possibly still hungry?”

Aaron flipped him off with a grin. “Okay, that’s everything, man. Oh, totally, of course. No, yeah, it’s not weird at all.”

He paused momentarily. “George, you’re a bitch. Yeah, absolutely total bitch. Thanks, bitch.”

“You think you’re ever going to get sick of that?”

Aaron set the phone back on its dock with a shrug as the car rolled forward a few feet.

“I have no place to complain. I mean, I’m doing and getting the best work of my life. If I have to call everybody a bitch for the next twenty years, it’s no big deal,” he said. He plucked at Bryan’s collar. “I’ve worked with some pretty awesome people. I think I can handle having a catchphrase.”

“Yeah,” Bryan said, feeling the car veer to the left before stalling into park. “Just think if Jesse went around yelling something like ‘donkey shit’ all the time?”

Aaron laughed and clapped his hands together. People were talking a good distance away, and Bryan could hear some light traffic, car doors closing, heels clicking on asphalt. Someone knocked on the window closest to Aaron, and before Bryan could suggest they position themselves more decently, Aaron punched the automotive button without a care in the world.

Bryan felt abnormally self-conscious, holding his breath as if his mother were going to walk in on him again. But, there was only a disembodied black glove shooting forward with a white and red paper bag. Once Aaron received it with a “Thanks, man,” his Styrofoam cup was delivered in the same fashion and Aaron thanked him once more before mechanically prompting the window up.

Settling back down against Bryan, he pinched out some French fries and crammed them in his mouth. He hauled out another handful as the car rumbled back up again and accelerated. The entire limo smelled pleasantly of grease and wet clothes and the brand of mousse Aaron liked to use.

Aaron took a large, blissful-looking bite of his double-patty burger. He sipped on his straw and gestured to himself with his arm. “Is this annoying? Like, do you want me sitting somewhere else instead of stuffing my face right in front of yours?”

“No,” Bryan said. He skimmed his hand down to the small dip of Aaron’s lower back. “This is nice.”

Aaron snorted with his mouth full of fries. “If you say so.”

They sat there through at least six or seven stops, though Bryan couldn’t tell whether they were red lights or jumbles of traffic in that way you could never tell in the back of a vehicle with tinted windows. Aaron had a habit of humming during a particularly good meal, and he was close to purring in his lap as he lovingly devoured his monster of a cheese burger. Bryan never expected to develop any new kinks in his fifties, but watching Aaron eat was shockingly appealing.

By the time he was licking bright yellow mustard from his fingers, Bryan was rubbing his palm against the clinging material of Aaron’s shirt. Aaron smiled around the thumb he was cleaning and it made a _plop_ coming out that had Bryan possibly a little _too_ excited. He touched Bryan’s cheek, leaning in.

“I’ve missed you _so_ much.”

His voice was low and simmering, and Bryan closed his eyes as he felt Aaron slant past him, beard just grazing his ear. Then it was as if Aaron was tipping himself almost over his shoulder. Bryan curiously opened his eyes.

Aaron was holding his Emmy, passionately tonguing the wing of it. And, it was somehow both obscene and hilarious.

Bryan popped him on the ass. “You cocky little shit.”

He groped him there, kissed the edge of his jaw, getting a phenomenal close-up of Aaron smirking against the polished metal.

\----

“Pretty sweet, right?” Aaron said.

Bryan hadn’t yet seen Aaron’s newly purchased two-story, million-dollar, 1930s Spanish-style villa. So he took maybe ten or so seconds to admire the stone tile and high ceilings before kissing Aaron again. He didn’t want to be a rude houseguest, but Aaron had been in his lap for a good half hour. Plus, there’d been that stretch of construction and uneven asphalt when Aaron had innocently continued to explain his theories on the Black Lodge and Bob from _Twin Peaks_ as if he couldn’t tell he was hobbling up and down like Bryan was a fucking mechanical bull, all the while feigning cheeky oblivion to the feel of Bryan’s dick swelling against him. Bryan would appreciate things like paint colors and light fixtures and wood detailing some other time. Unfastening the last remaining buttons on Aaron’s shirt was much higher on his lists of interests.

Tugging down the air-conditioned-cooled, wet fabric down Aaron’s shoulders, Bryan let it to drop with a _smack_ against a surface Bryan assumed from the sound to be more tile that trailed off into the next room. Again, there would be time for that later.

Bryan’s hands were on Aaron’s ribs, mouth still on his as Aaron got Bryan out of his jacket and shirt with a steady-handed dexterity that reminded Bryan of several chilly late nights in his trailer and Aaron swiftly ridding him of Walt’s button-ups like a quick-change artist.

With the shirt out of the way, Aaron held his elbow and began to step backwards, still sliding his tongue against Bryan’s, both of them walking in tandem like they were shadows of each other. Bryan let Aaron lead him literally blind because it just seemed natural to keep his eyes shut with Aaron kissing him like _that_ and Aaron’s hand flicking the button on his pants open, and then Aaron switched them around so Aaron was moving forward with Bryan in front.

His back softly met some sort of counter. Hands were working his zipper and there was air on his crotch. He felt a light petting motion down the front of his briefs that made him rock forward.

Someone was suddenly humping him back. And Bryan vaguely wondered what or who it was because it was coming from shin-level and Aaron wasn’t _that_ small. Maybe discussing the Black Lodge was what had him picturing a dancing little person in all red. And, that certainly warranted taking a look for himself.

Peering up at him was a tiny black and caramel-colored puppy, joyously going to town on his leg. It couldn’t have been over a foot and half tall even standing.

“Down, Pinto, down, boy,” Aaron said, waving him back.

He complied, sat on his haunches with his head tilted to the side and his mouth closed. The ears were folded over in a floppy way, though they perked up a little as he continued panting. Then he got right back up and started to gyrate against Aaron’s ankle.

“ _Pinto, down_ ,” Aaron said. He brought his leg back, and Pinto whimpered as he landed on all fours. “Come on, Pinto, pull yourself together.”

Bryan squatted down to reach out and let the little guy sniff the back of his hand. “When did you get a dog?”

Aaron glared as he picked up a beige throw pillow from the floor with its feathered guts spilling out. “I’m just dog sitting this guy until my neighbor gets back from his cousin’s wedding in Italy.”

“I’m guessing he’s been a handful?” Bryan scratched the puppy behind the ears as it raised his paw for a shake.

“Yeah, yeah, _yeah_ ,” Aaron said. He tossed the pillow into an armchair. “Go ahead and be all cute and obedient, so any innocent person on a walk would be like ‘Sure, I can take care of him for a week while you’re overseas and never pick up your damn international cell phone.’ Then you start pissing on my speakers and tear up my furniture and get out of your crate like your some sort of fucking _Jurassic Park_ velociraptor.”

The dog growled low in his throat and Aaron emphatically flipped him the bird with both hands.

Bryan pinched his mouth up to the side. “Should I give you two a little privacy? I’m sensing some unresolved conflicts here.”

“Ha-ha, no, I got it. He needs to go outside anyway. Just keep him busy for me.”

Bryan ran his nails under Pinto’s chin as Aaron snatched the dog up in his arms and walked a short distance to a sliding glass door. The puppy was thrashing and yelping until Aaron slid the door open and it sprinted out past the porch light into the shadowed, leafy abyss of Aaron’s backyard.

Aaron muttered something that sounded like “motherfucker” and Bryan was now very aware of the room he’d abruptly found himself inside like a sort of transitional shift in a dream. The walls were a pleasant tope-cream color, ceilings high, windows large and looking out to a distant view of what looked to be the Château. The glimmer was positioned in the right direction. It was just so dark inside that it was hard to see anything in the glass but the image-flipped doppelgängers of all of Aaron’s lovely modern furniture. The low-set, rectangular, honey-colored sofa to his left looked seriously spacious, contrasting nicely with the intimate two-seat breakfast table to his right that led into a similarly shaded kitchen, an island with four stovetops, and an impressive chandelier. The above-sink light was on and some of the lower cabinets were opened.

He smelled smoke before he noticed Aaron with his lips pursed, drawing on a cigarette, shirtless, pants sagging from being submerged in the pool. Aaron was slouching in the threshold. He was casually scratching at his collarbone. And Bryan was even more aware of his shortly forgotten erection, twitching at what Bryan could only describe as some sort of beautifully explicit advertisement for cigarettes that had Bryan questioning why exactly he was trying to quit again.

“Think they named him Pinto because he’s uncooperative and flammable?” Bryan said.

Aaron chuckled. “Nah, this dude’s like first-generation Italian, mid-twenties, and works with computers, so I don’t think he’s really up on 1970s cars. I think the guy just really likes pinto beans.”

Bryan squinted, and shook his head when Aaron tipped his pack of Parliaments over. “But, the dog looks nothing like a pinto bean.”

“Yeah, and he also acts nothing like a Beagle,” Aaron said. He blew a plume of smoke from the corner of his mouth, wafting it outside. “He’s apparently a Meagle, which is a Beagle mixed with a Miniature Doberman Pincher. But, he’s all Mini Pincher really, like nonstop hyper, sneaky, and since he’s only ten or so months old, he needs a lot of crate training. I don’t like putting animals behind bars, but there’s something about that breed where it keeps them in check or something.”

“Sounds like a lot of research. You doing a movie about breeding dogs I don’t know about?”

Aaron took one last, slow, nearly pornographic pull on his cigarette before smashing it into the ashtray atop a wet bar Bryan assumed was what Aaron had him up against a few minutes ago. Picking a tobacco flake from the tip of his tongue, he smiled.

“Unfortunately, still waiting for the screenplay on that one. Lauren and I have been thinking about getting a dog, but we both travel so much that it’d be kind of cruel,” Aaron said. “Every once and while though, one of us will have like a laptop out or whatever and we’ll end up looking shit up just because we still want one so bad. My mom was allergic, so I’ve never had a dog. And her dad’s really into cats. So we wanted a breed that was good for first-timers. You know, like a dog that doesn’t go around marking his territory by pissing on everything and humping everybody.”

Aaron turned to the yard and whistled as he patted his thighs, speaking animatedly. “Come, Pinto! Come on, be a good boy, Pinto. Get the hell in here Pinto before I have to hunt you the fuck down again.”      

Some branches rustled promisingly before Pinto darted between Aaron’s legs and past the kitchen island.

“Son of a bitch, _now_ you go right into your crate?” Aaron said, following behind the dog with the door open.

Bryan slid it forward and latched the lock back into place. His image in the glass caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt more than a little ridiculous wearing dress pants without a shirt. His socks were uncomfortably waterlogged, so he yanked them off after toeing his loafers to the side. His slacks were already halfway unzipped—Aaron’s handiwork with those elongated fingers Bryan liked to suck between his lips when Aaron was close to the edge—and Bryan tapped his own fingers against the metal teeth, wondering if it would be presumptuous to remove them already. He almost shrugged as he shucked them off, which left him only in his dark grey briefs that weren’t doing a whole lot to conceal his only mildly waning excitement from earlier.

“Never get tired of watching this.”

Bryan heard a series of bare footsteps like suction cups against the hardwood; body heat behind him, _Aaron_ , Aaron’s body heat was behind him. Then a hand snaked its way over his hip, caressed his inner thigh and came down to firmly cup his crotch over the cotton. He could see Aaron’s bare legs in their reflection, feel his cock firm along the crevice of ass. Aaron was naked and _so_ hard, and it was startling in a good way.

Bryan pushed back into it with a smile. “Hello, sailor.”

Aaron snickered and bucked up once before he seemed to go rigid all over, like he was restraining himself. He ever so gingerly pulled down just the edge of the elastic on Bryan’s briefs. “Can I take these off?”

“Absolutely,” he said.

Bryan leaned forward at the waist to help move the process along, and it wasn’t long at all for Aaron to peel them down to his ankles.

He only managed to straighten an inch or two before Aaron’s chest was curved flush against his back. Aaron nuzzled a kiss between his shoulder blades before his hand was languidly stroking Bryan’s cock. And Bryan choked out a moan because it had been so long since Aaron had touched him like this and he wasn’t at all expecting Aron’s fingers to be glazed with lubricant.

He felt Aaron’s fingers on his ass, cautiously slicking just the crease up and down. They’d never discussed changing up the roles they’d instinctively fallen into like subliminal typecasting, and Bryan was a little unsure about what Aaron wanted exactly. The uncertainty was exciting. But despite the fact that whatever the hell that was happening felt like Bryan was getting the human version of a delicious two-handed petting, he couldn’t help but think they needed some clarifying dialogue.

“You expecting company? Because I feel like I’m getting prepped for a three-way.” Bryan demonstrated by leaning into Aaron’s tight, slick fist before doing the same to the dancing fingers in the back.

Aaron’s reflection smiled sheepishly before his nose crinkled, and Bryan knew he was thinking hard even as he was so seamlessly multi-tasking.

“Oh,” he said with a breathy laugh. “I just thought the lube would be better…for you know, your dick than me just licking my fingers.”

The next fitted tug on Bryan’s cock made a sound like Aaron was gutting an entire tub of Vaseline, and Bryan was pretty fascinated by it, wanted it to happen again.

“Just a friendly note for later: almost _nothing_ is better than watching you lick your fingers. But, this is pretty damn close.”

“Oh yeah?”

Aaron was smiling over Bryan’s shoulder as his middle finger delved lower down Bryan’s cheeks.

Bryan smirked. “So, you want to be Pinto tonight?”

Aaron took him by the wrist, wiped a good dollop of excess lube in Bryan’s palm and guided Bryan right to his prick.

“Oh, fuck yeah, Bryan.” Aaron’s voice was husky and desperate. “You sure you’re cool with this?”

Bryan glided the puddle in his hand along Aaron’s shaft, assuming that was enough of a response. He tilted his torso lower just as he felt a fingertip press greasy at his entrance. Aaron nudged the digit inside, making tantalizing curling motions like he knew what he was doing. He added a second slender finger, and Bryan groaned at the feeling.

They were like that for a blissful interlude, in no rush, just hands and moving more and more against each other until they were both hot to the touch. And slippery; Bryan couldn’t believe how wet and slick and needy he felt. Aaron’s touch was heavy as he rubbed his thumb against the tip of Bryan’s cock, smearing the gel lovingly over the slit. He would pause occasionally to kiss the back of Bryan’s neck like the action required every bit of his attention. Bryan was getting woozy, imagined disintegrating if it went on much longer.

So when Aaron circled an arm around Bryan’s waist, Bryan nodded just to be clear, because he was leaking a lot of clear things down his thigh all ready.

Bryan could hear Aaron inhale, and from the way he was hunched, he could see Aaron’s image in the door, lips parted as he slid himself forward all the way up to the hilt. Aaron’s eyelids fluttered and Bryan emitted a moan that felt as if it started from the furthest depths of his lungs. He could feel Aaron, plump, pulsing inside him, and Bryan was already fucking sweating.

“ _Shit_ , Aaron,” he moaned. “So…so….”

Aaron grunted. “ _So good_.”

Aaron dragged himself out before diving back in with a little more _oomph,_ which coincidently happened to be the noise Bryan made.

Bryan titled his hips up at the next push of Aaron’s hips, and they found a somewhat staggered, gorgeously ungainly rhythm. It reminded him of how they fit together in about every aspect of their relationship, whether it was their timing in scenes together or their body placement when hugging each other. Everything about Aaron was one giant instinctual “Yes” for Bryan. They just worked.

“Put your hands on the door,” Aaron said.

“Yes, sir.”

Bryan laughed and set both palms against the cool surface at chest-level, and he could have sworn Aaron slid in even deeper.

Aaron snickered, clapped him on the ass. “Shut up, Cranston.”

“Oh, so you wanted…me like this so you could spank me?”

“No.” He smiled and licked that tender place between the shell of Bryan’s ear and his scalp. His voice was a raw whisper. “I want to fuck you harder.”

Bryan groaned. “Shit, yes.”

Aaron moved with his warm abdomen coming off from Bryan’s lower back like a bare leg on a hot vinyl seat in a car. Even with Bryan anticipating it, his jaw nearly clicked as Aaron rammed himself so fully into Bryan that the glass shook. The thing kept rattling at each and every one of Aaron’s thrusts that were making Bryan ache, and moan out a whole lot of nonsense along with an almost gratuitous use of Aaron’s name.

Bryan was so damn close, and he could feel in the way Aaron’s forearm was trembling against him that Aaron was too. Aaron’s arm clinched Bryan in snugger against his chest. Bryan moved one hand from the glass to cover Aaron’s. It was slow. Aaron was slowly rotating his hips into him, Bryan slowly grinding back against him. They were both so tightly entwined that slow only made sense.

It made Bryan’s orgasm feel nearly shared, the feeling bursting out of him with Aaron attached to his body like a new appendage, gasping just as much as Bryan even though Aaron was still hard as ever.

Just as he was gradually collecting himself, he glanced back up and realized he could make out every nuanced detail of Aaron’s expression by his mirrored duplicate: him mouthing “fuck” over and over, chin dropping with his lips gaping wide, eyelids pinched shut. Aaron pitched one last sloppy shove before biting the edge of Bryan’s shoulder hard enough for Bryan to close his eyes as well.

Aaron quivered for a few moments and Bryan set his forehead against the window because his legs were beginning to give.

“Are you okay, man?” Aaron kissed at the spot where his teeth had just been.

“You wore me out.” Bryan waved his hand back. “So, nothing new there.”

Aaron laughed softly, and Bryan smiled.

Aaron pressed his lips against Bryan’s shoulder again. So Bryan craned his neck to kiss him properly. Then he turned completely, lifting Aaron up by the backs of his thighs, cocks gliding against each other as Aaron pivoted forward. Because, Bryan really wanted to kiss the man properly, and he was by all means going to do so.

\-----

“We should do this again,” Bryan said.

His chin was propped on the back of Aaron’s arm, stroking his hand down his side. Aaron was flopped down, stomach-first on his brand-new Tempur-Pedic king size bed. Bryan was pretty old-school when it came to mattresses and what he thought should be inside of them, so he’d never been on anything like this even just to test it out in the store. And so far he wasn’t completely sure what the NASA-designed material felt like considering the majority of his body was laying on top of Aaron who was humming into his pillow and intermediately, graciously lifting his hips in the aftermath of Bryan’s most recent, glorious orgasm.  

Aaron snorted. “Cranston, you’re an animal. I’m gonna need like at least ten minutes before another round.”

Bryan laughed because at this point in his life, getting three erections in one night was a wondrous gift. Managing four had been a downright phenomenon. So yeah, he would need perhaps at least ten _hours_ before this supposed next round.

“I admire your aspirations, but that’s not what I meant.”

Aaron’s room was balmy in a pleasant way because even though it was probably already in the lower seventies outside at eight in the morning, Bryan was still somewhat chilly from his wet clothes and then spending the next several hours naked. Aaron had yet to get his blackout curtains installed, so the room was brimming with eager sunshine seeping through the blinds, reminding Bryan of past all-nighters. And he felt as young as the man underneath him.

He scratched the back of Aaron’s head, deliberately working his nails against his scalp the way he knew Aaron loved.

“I was thinking more along the lines of us doing this again more often. We live in the same city. I don’t want to be bald and goateed the next time we see each other.” Bryan kissed at the sliver of Aaron’s temple not blocked by his pillowcase. “At the risk of repeating myself obnoxiously so, I really, _really_ missed you, Aaron.”

Aaron started to shift a little and Bryan moved back so he could rearrange himself onto his side, and Aaron was grinning. He playfully thumbed Bryan’s lip. “I missed you like every day, man. Seriously, if you think _you’re_ obnoxious, wait until I’m calling to ask if you’re free every five seconds.”

“I look forward to it,” Bryan said. He tucked his arm underneath his head to settle back down more against the mattress. “Who knows? Maybe if I’m on good behavior, we could have _lots_ of sleepovers. I’ve actually been looking into condos. I’ve had it cleared with both Robin and Lauren. And I thought… _my god_.”

“ _What_?” Aaron’s eyes were huge.

Bryan rocked his body from side to side. “This bed is _phenomenal_. It feels like a cloud. I wish I had a better comparison. But, it’s honestly like a fucking cloud.”

Aaron started laughing and Bryan pointed at him.

“We’re getting one of these for the condo,” Bryan said.

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “You mean this condo you’ve apparently asked my fiancée about, but you like haven’t asked if _I’m_ into yet?”

Bryan rolled himself on to his elbow, hunched over Aaron a little. He hadn’t intended for such a serious question, one he’d deliberated on for nearly a month, to come out of him in some casual quip. But, it had, and he wasn’t sure where to go from there.

“Are…you…?”

Aaron lifted his head to kiss him, smirking on the way down. “Man, _of course_ I am.”

“Of course, huh?” Bryan dipped down and kissed him back. “Do you think you should feed Pinto at some point?”

“ _Shit_ , I totally forgot,” Aaron said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I seriously don’t want to get up.”

Bryan rubbed his palm into Aaron’s chest. “It’s fine. I got it.”

Before Aaron could tell him not to, Bryan stepped out of bed, padding across the room in nothing but his birthday suit. When he got to the door, he glanced behind him and Aaron was nodding approvingly.

Aaron made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “There should definitely be a lot this in the condo, like a whole lot of nudity. It’s gonna be fucking _awesome_ , man.”

Bryan nodded. “Fucking awesome, _man_.”

Turning left down the hall, he heard Aaron call out a drowsy, chuckled “Shut up.” And if Bryan had x-ray vision, he was sure he’d get a glimpse of Aaron with his middle finger raised, naked, and grinning; an image that was undeniably “fucking awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! And thanks for reading :)


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